It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Chick Lit

by S. E. Babin

  “Besides,” Katie said, “whoever left this for you obviously cared about you, even if it was a weird way to show it.” She tilted the box again and shook her head at the way the jewels glittered in the light. “Damn expensive way to show it, too. You could hock this for a pretty penny.”

  There was something about the box that made me think maybe it never should have made its way to me. Not sinister. Just...otherworldly. I frowned as I watched Katie manhandle it. There would be no pawning. Maybe I’d take it home with me and research where it had come from. In the meantime, I hoped I could put this out of my head for a little bit and get on with my day.

  I took the box back from my friend and tucked it into my bag. It should be safe there until I could get off work. Katie saw I was no longer in the mood to talk, so she busied herself with the opening tasks, and I finally made my way over to the coffee machine. I went through the motions of setting it up and sighed as the dark liquid finally poured itself into my cup.

  I checked my watch after I took my first sip. Ten a.m. on the dot. Katie unlocked the doors and I tipped my mug to her. “I’ll be in the back working on new orders. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Katie nodded, her face concerned, but she didn’t say anything else.

  I cradled the mug in my hands and walked toward the back. I opened the door to my office and inhaled the scent of books and ink. This store was my home away from home, my haven and my savior. I’d taken it over after my grandfather had passed away and, while people were appalled at the name change to Book Wenches at first, I liked to think Gramps would have been amused at the cheeky name. He’d deeded the entire thing to me, including the apartment upstairs. I’d never moved in, though, because Chris and I had been planning a move into the current apartment, so I’d cleaned it up and just left it empty.

  Maybe soon I could revisit that. I didn’t want to keep paying for a larger apartment when I didn’t have to, and I loved this place so much I could see myself living here. Without going into the office to start working, I headed upstairs.

  The stairs creaked with age and use, and I smiled at the sound. I used to play on these stairs when I was a child, and my grandfather used to always know where to find me by the inevitable sound of toys falling down the stairs. I smiled in memory as I stopped to fumble with my keys at the top of the stairs. I unlocked the door and pushed my way inside, the smell of the cinnamon candy my grandfather loved so much hitting me in the face. Tears pricked the back of my eyes as I looked around, my shoes kicking up dust on the hardwood floors as I walked through the entryway. I set my mug down on the hall table and looked into the living room area. All the furniture was gone, but everything still looked the same. The fireplace mantle was still the same reclaimed wood he and I had found walking through the woods one day. I remembered helping him sand it down and stain it with a deep mahogany color that stayed on his fingers for weeks afterward. And on my clothes, much to my mother’s consternation. The kitchen was over to the left, and I mentally added up the cost it would add to replace all of the outdated appliances. He had been a do-it-yourself kind of guy, and if it wasn’t broke, you shouldn’t fix it.

  But, alas, I was a modern girl who liked pretty things, and the old olive green of the oven and microwave would have to go. The cabinets were a dark, solid wood but I pictured in my mind how they would look as an antique white.

  A soft knock on the door interrupted my remodeling thoughts. Kate poked her blond head in, a curious expression on her face. “Jess?”

  I made my way into the hallway. “Right here.”

  The expression didn’t leave her face. “There’s a gentleman out there, adamant about seeing you.” Her lips twisted to the side. “Should I call the police?”

  Confusion filled me. “Is it Christopher?” I asked.

  Kate snorted. “If Christopher was an alpha male with an arrogance problem. No. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

  I sighed. Probably someone angry about how their recent release ended. I couldn’t count how many books people tried to return to me once they finished the entire thing and then decided they didn’t like the way it ended. “I’ll be right down.”

  Kate nodded. “Hurry, please. He’s giving the rest of the customers the heebs and I think he’s making his daughter uncomfortable.”

  I shook my head. “Following you down in a sec.”

  Kate shut the door behind her. I spent another few moments checking out the two bedrooms, making sure everything was in order and made my way out to deal with the angry customer.

  I picked up my coffee and grimaced as I took a sip. Cold. Few things in this world were more terrible than a cold cup of joe.

  I took the steps two at a time until I made it to the floor of the shop. A tall man stood with his back to me, holding the hand of an adorable little blond-haired girl. They made quite the contrast. He with his dark hair and massive shoulders and she with her tiny little princess jacket and slight frame. She couldn’t have been more than four or five. I smiled encouragingly at her and stepped closer.

  The man turned around, anger cast over every shadow of his handsome face.

  My hand flew to my mouth, and I squeaked in alarm.

  His expression widened and we stood there staring at each other like two idiots in a tornado, arguing about where to go for safety.

  “Jess?” he breathed as he stared at me in shock.

  I recovered first, I think. I wiped the shock from my face and replaced it with a mask of cool indifference. “Hello, Mr. Knight,” I said politely, but I couldn’t keep the frost from my voice.

  He blinked. “Right. Of course.” And in those few seconds, he straightened to his full height and waved a children’s book under my nose angrily.

  I sighed as I recognized it immediately. This book had become the bane of my existence.

  “I don’t know what kind of establishment you’re running here, but books like this sexualize children before they are ready, and I demand an apology.”

  One of my eyebrows rose of its own volition and I choked back the heated words sitting on the tip of my tongue. Instead, I tried for reason. Sort of. “Considering I am not the author of Trinity Goes to the Pageant, I think I have to decline. You are welcome to contact the author’s publisher and demand your pound of flesh there, but as a bookstore and an avid book lover, it is my duty to provide readers with the things they want to read, regardless of someone’s opinion.”

  Jensen’s face grew purple with fury. “This tripe ended with my daughter asking me to buy her makeup. Makeup!”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “I don’t recall seeing your daughter in here purchasing this book for herself. Therefore I cannot offer her a refund. If you purchased it and still have your receipt, I’d be happy to offer a one-time only refund on it. It’s not in my policy to refund already read books, but if it appeased you, I’d be happy to do this.”

  He rolled his eyes heavenward and squeezed the place between his brows with his fingers. “A refund?” he hissed after a moment. “How about a bottle of kerosene and a match?”

  During all of this, his daughter stayed silent, her brilliant green eyes staring up at him wide. “Daddy, I like this book. I want to keep it.”

  Jensen sighed. “Pumpkin. No.”

  She turned those devastating eyes to me. “Mommy says it isn’t a big deal.”

  I bent down to her level. “Sometimes parents disagree on things, but that’s okay, isn’t it? Would you like to see some more books we have? Maybe your dad can switch it out for one you like better?” I glared up at Jensen as soon as his daughter looked his way for permission.

  He gave her a short nod but returned my glare with equal fervor once she looked away.

  “Good,” I said in as friendly of a tone I could manage, considering how much of a jerk her dad was. I offered my hand and she took it. The feel of her tiny warm hand in my own broke some of the frost I felt, and I led her over to the children’s section.

  I wasn�
��t a fan of the pageant-centric book myself, but it had become a runaway bestseller, and local beauty pageants had been scrambling to keep up with the burgeoning interest ever since. I selected several books I thought she might like and that book-burner Jensen would approve of, and I sat her down at the large round table in the middle of the children’s section. I took a seat several feet away and watched as she looked through all of them.

  She was simply adorable. Dressed in a frilly pink dress, white tights, and white patent leather shoes, she looked every inch the pageant princess her dad was horrified to see her become. Long, curly blond hair trailed down her back and glittered in the soft light. Her rosebud lips pursed as she studied one book in particular distaste. Who was she and when had Jensen had a child? I chewed on the side of my lip, lost in thought.

  A disturbance in the air startled me as Jensen took the chair beside me. His long legs stretched out before him as he watched his daughter. I didn’t think it was possible, but he was even more devastatingly handsome than he had been ten years ago.

  He clasped his hands in front of him and spoke. “I owe you an apology.”

  I waved a hand, not trusting myself to speak now that he wasn’t angry anymore.

  “Her mother,” his tone hardened, “buys her these things and dresses her up like a little queen everywhere she goes. It’s maddening.”

  I studied the little girl. “She doesn’t seem too broken up by it.”

  “That’s what makes me the angriest,” he admitted. “By all accounts, I should be happy she’s happy, but the fact that she wants to go down a path that’s so degrading —” He paused and I watched as his fists clenched and unclenched.

  “A feminist?” I mused. “Color me surprised.”

  Jensen fell silent for a moment, but I felt his gaze slide away from his daughter and onto my profile. “Things change, Jess.”

  “Well,” I said and stood abruptly, not comfortable with the line this discussion seemed about to take. “I’ll leave you to it. She can stay as long as she likes, and when you’re ready to exchange your book, Katie can help you.”

  I turned to walk away only to stop as Jensen grasped my hand. The same spark of attraction flared between us, and I stiffened.

  “I just want to talk,” he said in a whisper so as not to disturb his daughter.

  I forced a smile. “I’m sorry, Mr. Knight. I have other matters of business to attend to.” I pulled my hand away and fled through the store and up the stairs to the refuge of my apartment before the tears started to fall.

  * * *

  About an hour later, there was a soft knock on my door. It had to be Katie. I ran to the bathroom, wiped the moisture off my face and pinched my cheek for some color. I opened the door to see Katie standing there wearing an annoyed expression on her face. She was also holding a tray with two enormous cups of coffee and a pile of pastries.

  “God bless you,” I said and opened the door wider to let her in.

  “You have some explaining to do,” she said with frost in her voice.

  “I do,” I admitted.

  Katie bent down and plonked the tray down onto the hardwood floor. She eyed the dust on it but shrugged and sat down. I sat down beside her, not caring that my skirt would be dirty when I got up.

  “Tell me all about that handsome, angry dish of a man,” Katie said right before she took an enormous bite of her pastry.

  I took a deep breath and tried to best explain the enigma that was Jensen Knight.

  2

  Nine Years Ago - When Jess Still Had Terrible Hair

  Books flew out of my arms and spilled around me in a circle of despair. Papers, pens, and notecards scattered in random directions. I lay in a crumpled heap with my skirt above my rear end, gasping for air, trying to catch my breath, and trying to get my hand-eye coordination back enough to cover up my mostly bare butt, now made frigid by the cool November air.

  A hand waved itself in front of my face, and a dry, deep voice spoke. “I can honestly say I’ve never seen Star Wars look better.”

  I groaned. I knew I shouldn’t have worn my Droid underwear today. Especially with a skirt. I took the stranger’s hand in my own and allowed him to help me up. I staggered a bit, still woozy from the tumble, but he caught me against his chest.

  His very broad, solid rock-hard chest.

  “Hi,” I whispered and looked up only to be staggered again by the brightest green eyes I’d ever seen in my entire life.

  “Hi,” he whispered back, still holding onto me.

  We stood like that for what seemed like an eternity until the sound of a throat clearing snapped us back to reality. I stepped away like I’d been burned and bent down to gather my things.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  The handsome green-eyed stranger bent down to help me. We locked gazes again.

  “I’m Jensen,” he said and offered me a devastating grin.

  I swallowed with a dry click. “Jessica,” I choked out after a moment.

  “Hi, Jessica.”

  I smiled, knowing my life was about to ruined in the absolutely best way. “Hi back.”

  We spent the next five minutes cleaning up the results of my epic spill and the next year wrapped in each other’s arms.

  3

  “And so what happened?” Katie asked me, breathless, hanging on every word.

  I shrugged. I wasn’t sure. “He moved without saying goodbye. I had a cryptic note left on my dorm room door. I never saw him again.”

  Katie’s mouth gaped open. “Never?”

  I shoved the pastry in my mouth. “Not until today,” I said with my mouth full.

  “That jerk,” she groused.

  I waved my pastry in agreement. But something about the whole timing of this thing really bothered me. As soon as I got home this evening I was investigating that pretty little box because suspicious things were beginning to happen.

  Katie filled me in on what had happened with Jensen after I fled upstairs. She said he’d lost his angry edge, apologized to her, and bought his daughter every single title except for one she’d picked out for herself. He’d also left his number.

  Katie leaned back, fished in her pocket and handed it over to me.

  I stared at the numbers, numb. Why after all these years did he suddenly want to reconnect? I took the paper slip from her fingers and set it beside me. I didn’t plan to use it. I don’t think I could take getting my heartbroken all over again.

  I’d put Jensen firmly out of my mind for years, and I hoped to keep him that way. There was no reason for me to revisit that pain and heartache. Especially two weeks before Christmas.

  Katie handed me a napkin and we wiped all the sugar off our fingers. I headed back downstairs with her in order to finish out the rest of the day. I bent behind the counter to make sure the box was still there. It sat snug against my scarf, glittering unnaturally in the dim light.

  I frowned at it. “This is all your fault,” I admonished it.

  “Huh?” Katie asked from behind me.

  I stood. “Nothing,” I said. “Just mumbling to myself.

  She gave me a strange look. “Why don’t you go ahead and go on home?”

  “Aren’t I supposed to be the one telling you that?” I said with a smile.

  “I’m not the one with Twilight Zone stuff happening today. Go home. Get some rest. Start fresh tomorrow.”

  Katie was smarter than she looked. I nodded and grabbed my stuff. “You have a point.” I headed toward the door. “See you tomorrow?”

  Katie waved me away. “You got it. Try to enjoy the rest of the day.”

  That would be difficult, but I nodded anyway and left Katie alone in the store.

  Moments later, I was in my car driving back home, musing over the weirdness that was today. I glanced up at the light, noting it was a strong green and rolled through the intersection only to see the light change immediately to red, skipping right over the yellow completely.

  “The hell?” I asked, p
uzzled.

  A green motorbike slammed into the passenger side of my tiny little Corolla, sending the driver sailing over my car and me into an uncontrollable tailspin. When it stopped, and I stopped screaming, I felt all around myself, looking for blood and broken bones.

  Nothing. I let out a shaky breath and wrenched open the door only to see it fall off the hinges and into the street. I hadn’t even been hit on the side.

  What was with my life these last few days?

  I stepped out of the vehicle, pulling my lightweight jacket closer around me and jogged over to the prone driver. My heart skipped a beat as he lay motionless on the side of the road.

  I bent down and felt for a pulse. Strong and steady. I let out a relieved breath and put my hand on his chest. The man moved and I stepped away.

  The visor to the helmet opened and a familiar beach bum grin showed through.

  “Hey, babe. Pretty sure my leg is broken.”

  Christopher had smacked right into my car and appeared to be mostly fine. While I was relieved at that, another factor sent my annoyance zone right into the rage zone.

  “New bike, huh?” I asked. “When you didn’t pay rent this month?” I crossed my arms over my chest even as I pulled out my phone to call for an ambulance. “Nice.”

  “Aww, babe, don’t look at me like that,” he whined and winced as he tried to move.

  I sighed, and when the operator answered I told her my location and to send an ambulance, even though I wanted to kick the crap out of my ex-boyfriend.

  I went back to my car to wait because the sight of Christopher’s face made me want to scream.

  * * *

  Because I try to be a good person even when I don’t want to be and because it was Christmas, I rode in the ambulance with Chris. He tried over and over to charm me, but I ignored most of his jokes. When we finally made it into a semi-private room, a young doctor came in and told us Chris had broken his leg in several places and would need around the clock care for the next six weeks.